Tori Short Story 4 - KNOWING
by ShadowBat48
Summary: Ever wonder what went through the thoughts of Tori's closest and most loved family and friends on the day she returned to Gotham? Well here are four different people's inner most thoughts on her return, their actions and emotions.


A/N: Here are the reactions and thoughts of four of Tori's family and friends when they find out Tori's alive!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

PS - I had no time to edit this, so it might be poopy in the editing department. Sorry!

* * *

TIM

Tim remembered the day very clearly. To be honest, it had been a very boring day. There had been nothing to do, his homework had been done and he had no tests the next day. I was content to just sitting on the couch and watching TV for the rest of the evening before stuffing himself with Alfred's cooking. Sundays were never that eventful…that was until Stephanie called. The trill of his cell phone made him jerk up with a start before he pawed around the couch trying to find the damn thing. Once he did he answered to here a gibberish tirade from Stephanie. He briefly wondered if she was mad at him for a split second before he decided to ask her to speak English,

"Stephanie, slow down. What's wrong?" he asked, she took a giant breath on the other end before saying whatever she'd said before in one long jumbled sentence,

"Tori'sAlive!She'sactuallyaliveWeneedtogonow!" Tim made a face, wondering if he had heard right,

"What?" he asked again,

"Tori is alive Tim! ALIVE," she said. Tim was silent for a moment, processing what she had just said. He was stunned, unsure of how to react. Silently he felt angry, and mad that Steph would even try and joke about his sister's death only a year after it had happened…part of him wondered if it was true,

"Tim. I know this is hard to believe, but Tori. Is. Alive. Turn on the news! Do it! Hurry!" Stephanie sounded like she was crying on the other end. Tim didn't really remember grabbing the remote and changing the channel. He only remembered seeing Vicki Vale on the television and Tori's picture on the screen. He didn't comprehend the words, it was obvious what she was saying…his sister was alive! Actually alive! An indescribable feeling soared through his very being and he was up on his feet before he could fully think. He leapt over the back of the couch, and jumped into his sneakers while grabbing his coat and yanking it on. As he ran down the stairs of the second floor to the first he pulled up another article on Tori's miraculous return. He needed to see her. He needed to tell her and talk to her and hug her because he never got the chance to before.

* * *

DICK

"Barb, I'm sorry I forgot the mangoes. I'm sure your fish tacos will be great without the mango salsa," Dick said as he paced up and down before the front door. His girlfriend was pissed that he forgot the most crucial ingredient to her famous fish taco dish that she was bringing to a Precinct fund raiser the next evening. For some reason she didn't think to go out herself now and get them, "Barbara, why don't you get them tomorrow?" Dick stopped in his pacing to listen to her response with a grimace only to nearly be mowed over by Tim. He jumped out of the way and grabbed his brother by the hood before he could grab the front door's handle,

"Whoa there Speedy Gonzales. Barb, I'll call you back I have a rascal to deal with," Dick said before hanging up, "Thanks for the escape Timbo…also, what's with the hurry and where are you going? It's almost dinner time," Tim looked absolutely frantic and was trying to pry Dick's hands off his hood. It was a pointless attempt, trapeze artists have grips of steel,

"Tim, use your words," he said, earning a brief distracted glare,

"She's alive," was all he said, still tugging at his hood. Dick raised an eyebrow,

"Who—?"

"Tori! She's alive! There was—," Dick felt a flash of sympathy before giving his brother a look,

"Tim…" he started,

"No! Dick. She really is alive! It's on the news! Look!" Tim said shoving his phone in his hands. Dick decided to humor him and glanced down at the phone only to gasp in shock and look closer at the legit and very recent article about Tori's return. It wasn't possible. His only thought was of his little brother's best friend who was actually his sister, who was always there with the batfamily and who helped coordinate communications with Barbara when he was Batman. Of Tori who took on everything with a smile on her face and determination in her gaze and who leapt off the trapeze platform like she had been born to fly.

There was a picture, a crisp clear one from outside the police precinct definitely by one of the billion paparazzi that were probably swarming the area. It was her, there was no doubt. The long dark brown hair and the blue blue eyes and her slight build…but she was different all the same. Dick was good at reading people and Tori was different. There was no confidence in her posture like there once had been when she stood before a paparazzi swarm. There was a look of dread in her too jaded eyes, as if she could tell nothing good was going to come from returning to Gotham, as if there was no hope inside her gaze at all. Her posture and eyes and slightly hunched shoulders told a different story than the one Tim was seeing. What happened to her? Dick wondered as he handed the phone back to Tim. He was happy, elated to have her back and alive and safe…but he couldn't help flashing back to Jason's return and the storm that followed. He worried and wondered if perhaps that might happen again,

"Go get her Timbo. I need to tell Barbara," he said with a smile, which Tim returned before dashing out the door. Dick watched after him with a small frown. He was exceedingly happy that another member of their friends/family was alive...but what repercussions would come from this other seemingly resurrection.

* * *

MAUD

Maud received the call while editing one of the fashion articles her magazine was going to post in the next issue. Her assistant was lurking about and her coffee was in her hand when the phone rang. With perfectly manicured nails she reached for the phone and picked up her coffee with the other hand,

"Hello?" she said curtly. She listened. Her face never changing her expression never wavering as she heard the news. Then she dropped her mug and it shattered on the carpeted floor, spilling its contents everywhere. Her assistant cried out and hurried to her side,

"Mrs. Crowne! Are you alright? Did it spill on you? I'll get—,"

"Get out," Maud said, her assistant stared at her dumbfounded,

"Wha—?"

"GET OUT!" Maud yelled, her voice cracking as she picked up the nearest object—a paper weight in the shape of a swan—standing and pivoting on her feet, she threw it at the assistant, who's name she couldn't remember at the moment. The woman ducked with a yelp,

"I SAID GET. OUT!" she screamed at the woman's retreating form. Maud turned back and sat at her mahogany wooden desk and stared out at her large and pristine—except for her now coffee stained rug—office, now mercifully silent and empty. With shaking hands and trembling fingers she, Maud, the woman who showed no emotion at all, who never yelled unless it was because of someone else's own stupidity, shook as she unlocked a single drawer at the bottom of her desk. She pulled it open and pulled out the one and only photo of her firstborn daughter to survive the purging of the dead.

Maud held the framed picture in her arms, as if she were holding her baby again, as if she were already in her arms—as if she had never left. She traced the shape of her daughter's face and the ringlets of hair that fell to the middle of her back, she always wore her hair long, even as a child. Ali preferred her hair a little past shoulder length while the boys didn't care at all what their hair looked like. They got that from Max, no matter if they denied it. They aped him without knowing it. Some would call Maud an ice queen. A cold hearted woman who cared for little else other than money and power. But it was a false front, a fake porcelain mask. Maud loved her children more than anything, more than her own life. And if, to keep them safe and untouched by the corrupted elite society she grew up in she had to keep her distance…she would keep that mask on for as long as she lived. But now, as she held the picture of her oldest daughter, her mask cracked, and she sobbed. Maud sobbed even as she picked up the phone and dialed a number she knew by heart,

"She's alive Max," she sobbed into the phone, "Tori's alive…my baby is alive."

* * *

JASON

He didn't know until two days after she had come back. He had been away. On a mission with Kori and Roy. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he was always one step behind everyone else with the news. He didn't hear about her 'death' until a day after she'd been pronounced dead. He'd been away for that as well. Did that make him a horrible person—probably. But it was like fate told him to wait before hearing important things and believing in things like that was dangerous for Jason…he didn't believe in things like fate. Even if it was fate that decreed him to be murdered by the Joker and even if it was fate that resurrected him and even if it was fate that Talia decided to toss him in a Lazarus Pit…he refused to believe that things were predestined.

But now? As he stood in his kitchen of his ratty apartment—he needed to get a better Gotham safe house—staring at the small TV screen with Tori's, his Toria's, face splattered all over nearly every news channel…maybe it was time for him to become a believer. Or maybe not. Fate had a way of twisting things. No one could predict the after effects the Pit had on a resurrected person. The nightmares as clear as the world before him about his death. His resurrection, the process of digging himself out of his own grave. He did not sign up for that, he would have gladly stayed a glorified zombie, dead to the world because he had no memory, just blurred jumbled bits. But after the Pit, he remembered everything. He remembered his time on the streets wandering until Talia's people found him. He remembered things through his dreams that made him sick upon waking. Fate designed that…and fate would screw him over somehow for bringing her back.

But also, he never felt more alive in the past year than he did in that moment. He felt a relief so powerful that he nearly lost his footing when he saw the news channel, he felt a swirl of emotions that he couldn't describe. He was happy, so unpredictably happy that Tori was back in Gotham. That she was alive and living and breathing and talking and walking. She was thirty blocks away, in a penthouse with her family or perhaps Tim had finally gotten the balls to tell her he's his sister and he's over there right now eating dinner with them. He felt terrible and angry because he hadn't known until just that moment. Did she think he moved on? Had she? Jason felt devastated, because if she was not dead…then that meant she'd been resurrected somehow. Or something along those lines. Would she have those nightmares now? Would she wake screaming in the middle of the night with no one to turn to or understand? Would he be able to help? Would he be the one to understand her?

Fate knocked right on that door, ready to change this wondrous miracle into something horrible and pulling Jason from the turmoil of his thoughts as well as reminding him that something would ruin everything. Something always did. Taking a deep breath he opened to door to find, to his shock, Barbara Gordon. She stood in the door's threshold with a grim look on her face,

"Nice legs, Barbie," he said in way of greeting,

"Eat any brains today Zombie?" She rebutted . Jason glared,

"What are you doing here?" he demanded crossing his arms,

"I'm here about Tori," she said, pushing past him and into the run down apartment, "I don't know how to tell you—,"

"—she's alive," he interrupted, "I know,"

"You do?" she asked,

"Yes…I-I found out a few minutes ago,"

"And how do you feel?" she asked, smiling and raising an eyebrow at him,

"Why do you think I feel anything?" he snapped. A total lie, he felt every emotion at once, so many that there wasn't a name for its combined formation,

"Because you love her," she said simply,

"You take this Oracle stuff way to seriously," he said, trying not to stutter out of shock at her guessed truth,

"Don't lie. I see the way you looked at her," she said, sitting down on the bar stool to the island countertop, "but there's something you need to know," there it was. That twist of fate, something that ruined everything,

"What?" Jason asked as he moved to get a beer out of the fridge…he's been trying to cut back…but the day was getting to him,

"She has no memory," Jason froze, his hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle, still in the fridge, the cold air hissing in his face,

"Of the year she's been dead?" he asked to clarify as he stepped back and popped off the lid,

"No. She has no memory of her life," Barbara said, nothing but sympathy in her expression. Jason didn't say anything for a moment,

"No memory. Nothing at all?" she shook her head, "How do you know?"

"Tim went to see her," Jason bit back a curse and a grimace, Tim would not lie about something like that,

"I want to see her," he said after another moment of silence, "I need to see her,"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Barbara said, getting up and putting a hand on his shoulder, which he shook off, "She doesn't remember any of us. She doesn't remember Peter or Tim or Stephanie or her own family. She is terrified right now, and a man popping up out of nowhere saying that he's her boyfriend…she doesn't need that. In fact it could make things worse," Jason drew away from the countertop,

"You mean if I try to get her to remember…if I press for her to remember all of us and me, she'll never remember anything at all?"

"It's a possibility and something I don't think we should risk. The mind is delicate. I think we both know that," Barbara said, glancing down at her toes, a hand resting on her stomach while Jason unintentionally moved a hand to his side as if he could still feel the metal cutting into his skin and cracking his bones,

"I get it," he said roughly, "I won't see her. I'll just wait until her memories come back,"

"That's just the thing…her past might come back easily…but the present, specifically the year before she was supposedly killed and the year that she was assumed dead, is a whole other story," Barbara said, "There's a chance…she may…not ever remember those years," Jason felt a tidal wave of emotion slam against his chest and mind. He could feel it peak. It was only a matter of time. His hands had curled into fists and he couldn't stop the stinging feeling around his eyes. He didn't say anything, he couldn't. Jason just stood where he was silent, with Barbara watching him with something like empathy in her gaze,

"I'm sorry Jason," she said, "There is a chance she'll remember but—,"

"—Don't get my hopes up. I got it," he said gruffly. Barbara nodded,

"I'll leave you alone now," she said, moving to leave. Jason stayed where he was, even when he heard the door close. Even when her footsteps clomped down the stairs and even when he couldn't hear any sounds indicating that she was still within the buildings. He just stood there letting his emotions howl silently and erratically until he couldn't take it anymore. With a ferocious yell, thunderous and raw he swept his hand out, grabbing the still full beer bottle before lobbing it against the wall next to the TV. It shattered too pieces and the frothy liquid seeped down the peeling wallpaper. Jason then thundered over to the TV and tore it from the wall before throwing it against the wall opposite to it.

Jason stood there, breathing raggedly, hands in fists unsure what to do with himself because there was nothing. he. could. do. His Toria may never remember him…but he'd be damned if he didn't try to get her to want to remember.

* * *

A/N: You get the mysterious and wondrous perspective of Maud. What do you think of her? Tell me in the comments by REVIEWING REVIEWING REVIEWING!


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